The Masquerade
by call.me.clueless
Summary: A series of blurbs, one-shots and other prompted works about the in-betweens of Team Arrow. Now: And with her dying breath he knew that he would be alone in this world. In which Oliver reflects on the life he has led and the future that awaits him.
1. Necessity

Summary: Her hands are stained red with the sin of her crime. She never thought she would be one for murder. This time, she decides, it was not murder, but necessity.

Title: Necessities

Disclaimer: I do not (unfortunately) own anything related to the TV show, Arrow. This also contains a slight spoiler for 4.09 for those of you who have yet to watch it.

* * *

She kicks off her black boots, leaving them haphazardly by the doorway. She didn't bother to lock the door behind her; she hasn't messed with any extra security in what seemed like ages. If anyone wanted to kill her, she just might let them.

 _Tonight is different_ , she thinks, taking off her jacket and draping it over the back of the kitchen chair. _Tonight, I killed again._

 _It wasn't supposed to be this way_ , she tries to justify, _it was supposed to be a simple recon mission with very low risk. No one was supposed to get hurt._

No one is **ever** supposed to get hurt.

She makes her way towards the bathroom that is usually shared between her and her sister when she is in town. She knows Laurel is miles away in Star City. She knows and wishes it weren't the case. This time, she shut the door firmly behind her, flakes of dried blood coming off of her fingers tips and leaving a reminder of the last few hours in their wake.

Her hands shake as she raises them to the sink. She thinks that she should be used to this by now. The scrapes and bruises. The potential threats. The blood. There is always so much blood.

She twists the hot water on full blast and begins the scrubbing that has become more and more of a routine lately. She scratches at her palms, her wrists, under her nails. At every inch, every centimeter, she can still see and still feel the warmth of the man's blood, slowly staining her hands as she took his life.

After the restoration, she was hoping to get a clean slate. She remembered what she was in the past, a monster constantly afraid of the cards that she had been dealt in this life. She was hoping that, by moving away from the madness that drove her to the brink of insanity, by staying with her mother, her only safe haven, and by moving on from her old life, she would be able to be the person that her family always thought she was. There was no more League business, no more Team Arrow, no more hunting bad guys.

Until there was.

She hadn't meant to start up again. She hadn't meant to fall back into her old ways. She wanted to help people, but like Ollie, she wanted to try something new. She wanted to face the light of day and attempt to help those around her by simply being her. After weeks of trying and trying and trying, she realized that she had failed. She had become blind to the problems in her area and felt as though she were letting everyone down again. She had been oblivious to the gang activity that was occurring all around her and quickly consuming the city. She was blinded by her need to avenge herself that she was forgetting who she was to begin with. She was Sara Lance, daughter, sister, lover, friend. She was also quickly realizing, the longer that she stayed in the city, hiding with her mother, that she needed The Canary back in her life. She had put away that part of herself for so long that, as the time went on, she felt a certain craving for it. She supposed it made her a coward to have such a yearning for the mask that she was able to hide behind for so long. She never wanted it to make her a murderer again.

Tonight, though, had changed her again. She knew, as she swung her staff to meet the man's head that wasn't supposed to see her, that this was different. She knew, as she raised her weapon and plunged it into his buddy's stomach, that she was headed down the same road again. She knew, with a quick snap of the man's neck, who had been holding a gun to her face only seconds prior, things would change instantly.

Those men, though involved in dangerous gang activities and wanted for murder around the city, would never go back to their families. They would never have the luxury of seeing their children, their wives again. They would never be able to repent for their crimes. They would never be able to make amends for all of their wrongdoings. She had taken away these options for them. She had, once again, taken lives.

A soft chime of her cell phone brings her out of her musings and she sighs. Her eyes drift to the red, raw skin of her hands, slightly irritated with the heat still pouring from the faucet. She moves to grab the hand towel, and then slips a mostly dry hand into her pocket to reach for her phone, wondering who it was that would be bothering her at such an absurd hour.

 _Felicity. Hospital. Come quickly. - Laurel_

Her eyes glance briefly over the words, wondering if her sister could be possibly be more cryptic, but then it clicked. She races towards the kitchen and grabs her jacket once again while searching frantically for the car keys. As soon as they are within reach, she tucks them into her pocket, slides her shoes back on and races out the door. For the second time that night, she is on a mission. She knows that it will take some time to reach Star City, but she is willing to break a few laws to get there a little faster. As soon as the car has started and she has pulled out of her usual spot, she decides that it is a necessity sometimes, breaking the law. She decides that this is why she does what she does: for her precious people, for the ones who cannot protect themselves, for her family, her friends, her loved ones. She resolves to keep her composure relatively calm until she finds out more information regarding the situation, but also promises to find whoever hurt her friend.

Tonight, the killing that could have been avoided ended up being a necessity in order to protect herself. The next time, it will be to protect the ones she loves. And it seems to her that the next time isn't so far away.

With her brows drawn together in frustration and her foot falling heavily on the gas pedal, she heads home.


	2. Casualties

Summary: And with her dying breath he knew that he would be alone in this world. In which Oliver reflects on the life he has led and the future that awaits him. AU 4.09/4.10.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Arrow related.

* * *

The sound of the bullets still echoed around him as he drove the limo further and further from the ghosts. He knew things had been going too smoothly; he should have been more prepared. He should have predicted this. He shook his head at his naivety. He slowed the limo to a stop, assuming they had lost the ghosts, and stumbled out of the driver's seat.

"Felicity," He called to his fiancee, his heart racing as he recalled how silent the ride had been. He threw the back door open without hesitation to find Felicity lying down on the back seat, motionless. "Felicity, hey," He tried again, reaching into the car and pulling her out as gently as he could. His eyes widened, noticing the blood that had stained her coat. His hands began to shake as he descended to the ground with Felicity falling limply into his lap. "Felicity, please," He pleaded, taking a deep breath before putting his fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. He waited, trying to find the steady thrum of heartbeats, and pressed harder to see if anything was there. He placed his ear against her chest to be sure that he wasn't mistaken, wrapping his arms around her waist as he did so to keep her upright. Tears began to well in his eyes, her blood beginning to stain his suit jacket as well.

He pulled back, his eyes searching her form for any sign of life. "Felicity, please, no. No. No no no," He pressed his hand to her cheek, hoping that she would turn into it like she had many times before. He searched her face, hoping to catch a twitch or any slight movement that signalled that she was still with him. He moved to grab her hand, giving it a soft squeeze and brushing his thumb along her knuckles. His breath hitched with she did not return the gesture.

He looked around frantically, hoping to find some help of some sort that would be able to revive her. Finding none, his heart sank. With a heart-wrenching sob, he embraced her.

"You were never the one who was supposed to be hurt," He cried, "I promised I was going to protect you, and I failed. I'm so, so sorry." The tears flowed freely from his eyes as he held her.

They had done so much for their city, together. They had faced countless obstacles, numerous foes, and foiled them all. Years of his stupidity and obliviousness to what was right in front of him had passed. Perhaps, he thought, if he had realized how much she had meant to him sooner, if he had taken the leap of faith to dive into their relationship, if he hadn't been so much of a coward to put it on hold for so long, things would be different. Perhaps they would have had a shot at their happily ever after, even if just for a little while.

Then again, perhaps he should have continued to keep her at arm's length. Perhaps he should have kept her away from the madness, kept her from being a potential target every second of every day. Perhaps then, she would still be alive and breathing and (not with him but) happy. He would not have known her as he did, but if it would have kept her alive, kept her from being added to the list of casualties, it would have been worth it.

He clutched her lifeless body to him, adjusting her against his chest as he stood, and readied himself to carry her, ready to carry the weight of what had happened because of him. They weren't far from the hospital now, and all he wanted to was to spend these last moments with her before sending her away.

One step at a time.

One breath at a time.

They would make it, together.

Except, now it was just him. His heart shattered, his purpose gone, and any chance he had at rejoining the light was diminished with her dying breath. The darkness began to consume him, even now. Mere minutes after she had left him and he could already feel the shift within his soul. There would be no point in stopping it now. Without her to keep him grounded, he was unsure of where to go.

Without her, he was unsure of how to carry on.

He wasn't sure how long it took them to get there, to stumble through the front doors of the hospital. He wasn't sure how long it had been since he had lost her. He had lost all track of time. Nothing mattered anymore.

He didn't want to hear the questions. He didn't want to bear the curious glances. He didn't want to listen to the doctors tell him what he had known for what seemed like an eternity. He ignored the commotion that occurred all around him. If he didn't, he was sure that he would break.

She was dead.

And it was _his_ fault.

They wanted him to let her go. They tried pulling her from his arms. It was quite some time before he relented, but it wasn't until he laid her down on the gurney, brushing the soft hair out of her face that he felt it.

The wheels began turn on the gurney, and on his mind as they rolled her away to pronounce her death. The hatred began to bubble up inside him, the anger reaching an all-time high.

He would continue on. He would continue his crusade with what remained of his team. For her. For his Felicity.

But, perhaps almost as importantly, Damien Darhk would pay.


End file.
